Belong
by FightingKirbys
Summary: My third story about Touch, from the X-Men universe, and an adventure which determines his future with the team.
1. Chapter 1

None of the Marvel or DC characters mentioned within belong to me.  All characters not of the Marvel or DC universes were created by either friends of mine or me, so read my other two stories with Touch in the title to get an idea of his character, and visit Dragonbreath if you'd like to know more about the X-Tremes (the other characters mentioned).

  
*          *          *

They were a team, but it rarely felt as if it was "us" to her – it was always "them".  They were often selfish – not in their work, which she was more than pleased to do her piece in.  The bickering between each other, the pranks, the sheer lack of compassion for each other – she could not help but feel that those who had been given to have such freedom would abuse it so much.

The emotions she had within her rarely went elsewhere.  Because of who – no, what – she was, she did not have the option.  Yet none of them could understand how she wanted nothing more than to be away from it.  All left inside of her was the desire to be alone.

It was three in the morning when she left.  She pulled the hood over her head despite the clear sky, and her cape close to her body, despite the warm weather.  It would be hours before they knew she was gone.  As the night enveloped her body, the thought of if they would even notice drifted into her mind before she shut it out of her mind.

  
It did not matter anymore.

*          *          *

Pip walked into the gymnasium that the danger room had as a default setting, and Jack followed close behind.   There were both dressed in their gym class clothes, and Jack had a basketball dribbling down the hallway in empty echoes in the opposite direction.  The lights had been off, and as he turned them on, Pip's attentive hearing caught the sound of shifting clothing from seemingly thin air.  
  
"Alright, let's start off with some one-on-one, just to war-"  
  


"Shh."  Pip cut him off suddenly, clamping a hand over his mouth.  After forty seconds, another brush of cloth against cloth snapped both of their heads upward.  About fifty yards away and another fifty in the air, Touch was on the high wire that Kurt used for practice.  Only, he was standing in the middle.  On one foot.  Blindfolded.  Wearing the usual black clothes and that same black trench coat.  Jack pried the hand off of his mouth to reveal a mischievous smile.  
  
"I know, I know," he said before Pip could even start objecting.  "I get up there and scare him, than you catch him when he falls, and no one gets hurt.  Pretty please?"

Jack was his best friend, and Pip was already such a pushover (not to mention a sucker for a good joke).  "I'm game."

There was without a doubt a bit of a trick to get on the line at just the right spot to scare him, but he soon figured that by bouncing on the line just behind his target, he would be able to set himself onto the wire while tossing Touch towards the ground.  He signaled Pip to head over near where Touch was, and closed his eyes, porting just above the wire.  
  
There was about a quarter of a second where the mischievous smile stayed on his face, until his vision registered to see the flip of a trench coat, followed shortly by a leg turning back and crashing into his stomach, careening his body clear off of careening his body away from the wire and leaving it undisturbed.  Despite the initial shock of what happened, Pip managed to catch Jack just seconds before he would have hit the floor.  
  
Slowly being lowered to the ground, he looked up and saw Touch with his leg still extended.  Without agitating the wire a hair, he pulled the leg back against the other and returned to his crane position, as if nothing had happened.  After a few moments, he walked calmly over to the pole supporting the wire, hopped onto it, and slid down, with a landing that even Logan would not have picked up as more than a soft thud.  It was not until then that he took off the blindfold.  
  
Touch walked towards the exit of the danger room, tossing the blindfold to Jack.  Just as he was about to walk through the door, he turned around.  
  
"Powers aren't everything… just something to remember."  He usually said these sarcastic comments with a brief smile, the few positive moments he ever exposed, but he lacked it today.  
  
"You think something's wrong with him?" Pip asked, genuinely concerned.  Jack scowled.  
  
"Of course there's something wrong with him… there's always been something wrong with him."  He turned his back on Pip, punting the basketball into the wall before exiting the danger room.  His friend sighed and started shooting a few hoops.  Not too many people could stand being the foundation for such an unstable structure.  He went to take a shot and rattled the backboard as it bounced away.  Another sigh.

And people thought that Touch was the troubled one.  

*          *          *

"This whole 'brooding hero' thing really isn't working for you," Rebecca said with a laugh.  She and Dinah had grabbed Touch while he was in the hall, and he had given up on trying to escape them in the past.  It was even more exhausting to resist than it was to humor them.  
  
"She's got a point; you shame Jack – sorry Becca – and get your thrill, but it doesn't change a thing.  You've got to stop being like this!"  
  
"You act like I choose."  
  
Rebecca and Dinah stopped in their tracks as Touch walked forward.  They have had these conversations with him at least five times a week, for what seems like forever, and he had never said anything.  Today felt different… but even these few words brought out a tidal wave of thoughts into both of their heads.  They ran to catch up to him, hoping like he would have more to say.  Rebecca opened her mouth to ask more, but Dinah grabbed her wrist.  
  
"What were you doing in there?" she asked softly.  Both had calmed down, trying to make him more comfortable.  
  
"It was a karate practice based after the movements of a crane.  In addition to serving as a fighting technique, it also increases one's ability to meditate."  
  
"How do you know that?"  
  
His eyes drifted to the floor.  "I… I don't know."


	2. Chapter 2

None of the Marvel or DC characters mentioned within belong to me.  All characters not of the Marvel or DC universes were created by either friends of mine or me, so read my other two stories with Touch in the title to get an idea of his character, and visit Dragonbreath if you'd like to know more about the X-Tremes (the other characters mentioned).  And see if you can catch the Tenacious D reference.

  
*          *          *

Not many people went into the city to seek tranquility, yet Touch always seemed to find it there.  There was something about being alone, or in a small crowd, that just made him feel like a target.  Places like these let him think his own thoughts and be himself without worrying about what other people thought.  It was a place where people were to busy making their own judgments to even give him a second thought.  It was pleasant.  

However, getting into the city proved to be a lot trickier.  Xavier had apprehensions about any of his students going into the city by themselves, especially Touch.  When he was asked why, he told Touch that it was because he had more therapy to attend to before he could go out on his own.  The reality of the situation was the professor had always had trouble keeping a hold on the youth's mind, even in close proximity, and without having somebody with Touch at all times, there was no way he could keep track of his actions.  Either Dinah or Rebecca were always happy to accompany him, or even Liz if she could drag Pip along, so getting there always happened if he needed to get away.  The 'lost in the crowd' feeling, however, was never the same.  Rebecca had to meet up with Scott in the danger room for her weekly individual training session, so Dinah decided to take Touch out to lunch and maybe get him to talk.

"What did you mean when you said you didn't know?"  Her voice was cautious to speak, but she figured this was as comfortable as he was going to get.  

"Wait."  He walked into a restaurant that she had never seen before.  The outside was incredibly shoddy, almost decrepit, with neon letters flashing only a few letters out of the name of the place - Zanzibar.  Dinah cautiously stepped though the door, first noticing the mellow sounds of jazz music waft in her direction.  The inside revealed an incredibly rich atmosphere with a live band playing at one in the afternoon – a rarity anywhere in New York.  Immediately, a waiter walked up to Touch and showed him to a table for two.  He pulled out the seat for Dinah and then sat across from her, then held up two fingers to the waiter.  As the waiter walked away, Dinah just stared at him.  

"Is this another one of those things you just know?"

"Oh no, I found this place when I was with the Hellfire Club.  They called it plebian because Emma hates jazz or something like that.  The streets aren't the best place to talk."  

The waiter came back with two glasses and a bottle of wine, and a plate of appetizers.  

"Beats dealing with hotdog venders too."

She could not help but smile at his simplicity sometimes.  Everything else about him was so complicated that it was scary, but his actions rarely had to be explained in more than one breath.

They ate in silence, just listening to the music while nibbling on the food in front of them.  Dinah had gotten lost in the atmosphere and forgot her question until Touch had finished his wine.

"I don't know."  
  
It took her half a second to register just what he said, let alone figuring out what he meant.  The realization pulled her back into reality rather quickly though, and she tried to think of some sort of intelligent response.  
  


"But… there has to be a way you know."  
  
"No there doesn't.  Or else I would."

"Please Touch, just think for a sec,"  
  
"I think about it all the time."

"Then what is it?"  
  
"I don't know."  He sat up slightly in his seat upon saying this again.  He was clearly becoming frustrated with the conversation, but Dinah refused to let up.  
  
"Then why do you do it?  Give me something to go on, or I can't help you."  
  
"You don't know what it's like to be a shell of person.  It's not like what X says.  I'm not half thug and half old guy.  I have pieces of them in me, but I am all me, and I don't know what that is."  He shot up from his seat, and placed his face in front of hers.  "Wake up one day and be all these things, but something else that's my personality, my life, but nothing else.  You won't even know if you exist."  
  


He tore through the door of the restaurant and walked into the streets.  As much as Dinah wanted to run after him and try to apologize, she could not see how it would make the situation any better.  Her head fell into her hands and just laid her head down.  She could not remember any time she had been so angry, and yet so guilty at the same time.  

*          *          *

Touch stormed deep into the city, moving away from the slums that he had slightly led Dinah into, towards the more tourist-surrounded area, and finding himself right on the edge of the two worlds.  There was a flight of stairs leading up to an apartment, offering a relatively good place to just stop and ruminate over the thoughts that had been plaguing him for as long as he had been… well… what he is.  How could he explain to her how he is this kid, and that old man, and everything else he had ever been before that?  But most of all, how could he explain to her that all of this was him, and yet his essence was still Touch?  He could not even explain it to himself.  
  
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a back of cigarettes.  It had been common practice to get yelled at for even carrying them around (smoking was not an addiction for him, as he had full control of his mind); just one of the many irritations that he had been dealing with.  

He took a cigarette out of its package and patted his side to find a lighter or matches.  
  
_Nothing… damn it…_

He looked up to stop someone walking by to ask for a light just in time to see a deep blue cloak flow by him as its owner ran past.  Within a few seconds, two guys chasing her pulled the same close running stunt, these ones towering over the other figure.  It was in his instincts to let something like this go, but time with the X-Tremes instilled the need in him to help out somehow.  
  
The two guys hunting down the cloaked figure tackled it into the trunk of a taxi, sprawling their prey over the back of the vehicle.  One of them pulled a knife out of his coat pocket and used his other hand to grab the person by the neck, pulling them off of the car.  The hood on the person fell off to reveal the face of a young girl, her head rolling to the side as if her entire body lacked the life in it to control any of its movements.

The second of the thugs grabbed the knife away from his friend and placed it next to the girl's neck.  
  
"No one screws with out business…"  
  
As sadistic and cruel as his voice sounded, the amount of enjoyment he seemed to be getting out of it only slightly offset the anger in the eyes of him and his comrade.  His arm threw back behind his head and slammed the knife down with every ounce of strength in his body.


	3. Chapter 3

_From the last chapter:_

_The second of the thugs grabbed the knife away from his friend and placed it next to the girl's neck.  
  
"No one screws with out business…"  
  
As sadistic and cruel as his voice sounded, the amount of enjoyment he seemed to be getting out of it only slightly offset the anger in the eyes of him and his comrade.  His arm threw back behind his head and slammed the knife down with every ounce of strength in his body._

*          *            *

The knife cut past skin, past bone, coming out the other side… of his friend's wrist.  There were a solid five seconds of shock before a scream erupted from both of the allies – though, one with better reason than the other.  
  
The girl's body dropped to the ground, with her cloak curling around her in a dark pool of indigo.  Hardly anyone would have noticed her, though, with the painful screams of the second man carrying through the loud city streets.  The first was doing his best to try and figure out what had happened, but the hand with the knife in it was shaking, pointing it towards his own chest.  It was not until then the man with the knife noticed the figure in the trench coat leaning against the all near them, watching the entire set of events unfold as if he had written the story.  
  
"DO SOMETHING!" the man screamed towards the figure in the trench coat.  Touch smiled and pointed his hand towards the hand with the knife, moving them up and down parallel to each other.  
  
"Oh… but I am."

He manipulated the two men to face each other, and backed them each up ten feet.  With one swift clasping of his hands, the two men ran full speed into each other, backing up and doing it several more times before they lost consciousness.  
  
Touch walked over to where the girl lay and saw that she had not moved from that position, though he could see the cape heaving up and down as she caught her breath.  He carefully laid her on her back and examined her to see if she had an serious injuries.  
  
"Are you hurt?" he asked, truly beginning to notice her exact features among the small scrapes he had been checking.  Pulling back the hood revealed a pale face, marked only by a small red diamond on her forehead and the violet/blue hair that fell just above her shoulders.  The hair lay flat against her skin, giving her a more refined, facial structure, commanding a respect he had never seen before, even in this weekend state.  She could not have been much older than sixteen or seventeen, yet she had the intuition to know that Touch was there to help her.  Her mouth opened and moved in response, but no words were coming out.  He closed his eyes and placed a finger on her temple, letting himself enter her mind just slightly.  
  
_Don't talk, think,_ he said through his own thoughts to hers.  
  
She closed her eyes as well, creating a picture of herself in her mind.  The image closed in onto her head, and showed some sort of band-aid sized sticker on the back of her neck.  Keeping his eyes closed, Touch reached behind her head and ripped the patch from its place.  
  
Her eyes snapped open, and her body shot up.  
  
"A little warning next time?" she spoke in an almost monotonous, but still clearly feminine voice, as she rubbed the back of her neck.

Touch, still crouched next to her, stood up and walked away.  He had no desire to deal with an unappreciative brat, and he made her know damn well that thought.  He was several steps away before a small white hand held his shoulder, attempting to get him to stop.  
  
"I'm sorry… thank you for helping me," the girl spoke more delicately now, despite the fact he had not even turned around to face her.  He turned to face her, and she that her face still had the same solemn look, despite the fact he heard true guilt in her voice.  There was a moment of peace between the two of them before her knees buckled underneath her and Touch pulled her arm up so he could catch her.  With much care, he brought her into the lobby of the apartments that the fight had broken out in front of, and laid her on the cool tiling.  He took off his trench coat as well and tucked it underneath her head.  
  
"You're probably just tired… I'm Touch by the way…what happened?"

"Touch.  My name's Raven.  There was a bunch of guys mugging this woman, and I took care of it.  Before I knew it though, there were another ten guys around.  The swarmed over me and I fought back, but they immobilized me and I ran."  
  
"You… fought back?"  He couldn't quite take in how she managed to take down 

She nodded.  Her eyes faded to white as she pointed to the lock on the door they had just come through.  The lock turned completely black, with the exception of the edges that became white outlines, and melted off the door.  
  
"Then why did you run away?"  
  
"You aren't the best when it comes to making connections, are you?  I need to be able to speak to perform the incantation, even if it is just murmuring it, and that thing on my neck paralyzed my vocal chords."  By now, Touch was not sure whether to be fascinated or pissed off at her.  Normally he would not have given her ten seconds of his time, but there was something about her that he could not help but feel the need to stay by her side at that moment.  As he had these thoughts, he neglected to remember to actually respond to her.  It took a moment for him to realize he had been staring at her, but once he had, he noticed an inquisitive look on her face as well.  
  
"Why did you help me?"  Her voice was a little quieter than it had been before, with more concern than simple curiosity.

"Oh, I'm a mutant.  I can possess people an-" he began, until he waved a hand to stop him.  
  
"No, I figured you had powers or something – I'm not stranger to them.  Why?"

He thought for a moment.  "I don't know really… these people I'm with are always helping other people.  It's just been kind of a habit now."

"You didn't need to.  You don't look like a good guy."  
  
"But I did.  And most good guys don't do what I did to the bad guys."

"Touché.  What now?"  
  
"The place can make sure you aren't too bad.  We can check you out back there unless you want to go home."

  Raven looked away from him.  "We can try that place I guess."  He helped her up and went outside of the building.  Touch scribbled an address on a piece of paper and handed it to the first taxi driver that stopped by them.  
  
"I can't really let you know where we are going, but trust me."  He closed his eyes and entered her mind again, blurring her vision so she could not see where she was going.  
  
He could not even remember the last person who he had asked to trust him.


End file.
